This Thing Called BDSM

An example of extreme bad manners at a fetish party:

But this one couple, when approached by mr. d, the male turned to the female and asked her for her input. She looked at me, and said, I don’t know, she needs to take her towel off so I can see her. I typically wear my towel wrapped around the top of my breasts, so I’m covered from chest to upper thigh. And they waited, her staring me down, clearly expecting me to pull off the towel so that she could have a look.

I wanted nothing more than to tell them both where to go, and I was becoming more uncomfortable with each passing second. I looked at mr. d, and he smiled and said ‘it’s up to you.’ I knew he meant that, but I also knew he was very interested in this woman, and I wanted to give him what he wanted. So I looked down at the floor, and slowly opened up my towel as briefly as possible, then wrapped myself back up again.

I peeked up at the woman, and she had sort of turned her nose up at me and shook her head ‘no’ and the couple walked off. No explanation, no apologies for making me feel badly. I had such a difficult time turning off my humiliation and moving on with mr. d to another couple. But I knew that he didn’t have that body image problem, and a woman doing that to him would have only made him laugh. So I did my best, but my heart wasn’t in it for the rest of the evening.

The way that woman looked at me that night left me feeling worse about myself than any man in my life had ever done, before or since. It’s one thing to have a particular ‘taste’ in sex partners, but it’s another entirely to approach it that way. There are lots of ways they could have handled it that wouldn’t have left me emotionally bruised. And like I said, she wouldn’t have been playing with me anyway. Bitch didn’t have to touch me, or look at me, if she didn’t want to.

this thing called bdsm

Originally posted 2006-11-16 17:54:37.